Dawn of Fire and Ice
by Luxenne
Summary: Christa Lenz and Bertholdt Hoover share a steamy moment together beneath stormy, overcast skies after surviving a harrowing training exercise. (Set during the final year of the 104 Training Corps, light spoilers for those who haven't finished watching season 2) Warnings: Crack pairing rated M for smut, sexually explicit content, and gratuitous nudity. Bertholdt x Christa
1. Fog

**Chapter One: Fog**

There is a sharp, sudden horrified gasp behind her as the blonde turns to find Sasha Braus watching her with wide, fearful eyes.

"Sasha, is everything alright?" Christa asks turning to face her with a pleasant smile.

"Hey, keep the line moving short stuff," the server barks with an irritable frown as she turns to attend to Ymir. The redhead hesitates before shaking her head vigorously prompting Christa to lift her tray and walk away.

Although the sun had sunk over an hour ago, the steady stream of trainees filing in from the training grounds only seems to grow larger and larger with every passing moment. Light blue eyes quickly scan the crowded mess hall, trailing the line of bodies forming by the servers' tables.

"I knew it," Sasha moans as she and Ymir slide into the empty spaces beside Christa. "They're trying to kill us."

"No, they aren't," Ymir grumbles, lifting a loaf of bread from her tray before sliding it under the table. The blonde's eyes widen slightly as she feels the freckled girl nudge her discretely with the loaf of bread.

"What are you talking about?" Christa asks turning to address Sasha with a patient smile.

"Annie's serving was also considerably small," Sasha replies with a horrified shudder. The drooling redhead follows the blonde's gaze as she lowers it to her tray.

"I see," Christa muses as she lifts her spoon. "Well, I guess I don't feel so alone now."

"Sadies only orders the staff to withhold or lower servings for certain trainees who are being disciplined or sanctioned," Mina Carolina opines as she joins the group.

"Then there must be some sort of mistake." Ymir slaps her hand indignantly on the table as she resorts to pinching the blonde beneath the table. Christa shifts away from her giving her a defiant glare as she chews a chunk of meat. "A mix-up maybe."

"Oh? How so?" Ymir asks arching an eyebrow.

"Well, a lot of people get she, Annie and Armin mixed up because they're all small with yellow hair." Mina shrugs as she leans forward to blow the steam rising from her spoon.

"That's right!" Sasha agrees, slamming her fist unto her open palm.

"But why would Sadies be punishing Armin or Annie?" Ymir scoffed. "If he wanted to punish that daffodil all he has to do is make him repeat the running drill in this weather."

"Daffodil?" They all freeze as they turn to find Annie Leonhardt watching them.

"I meant Arlert," Ymir smirks. A menacing frown twists the antisocial blonde's features. "What? Those were Sadies' words, not mine."

"How do you know Sadies' exact words?" Sasha wonders.

"I snuck a peek at his assessment reports last week." Ymir shrugs as she finally withdraws her hand from beneath the table, dropping the bread unto Christa's tray with an exasperated roll of her eyes. The blonde picks up the offering and wordlessly hands it over to a drooling Sasha who instantly devours it with a noisy growl. Ymir's lips twist in obvious displeasure.

"What did he say about me?" Mina Carolina asks twiddling her thumbs with a nervous flourish as Annie sets her tray down with a loud bang and marches away.

"Hey, where are you going?!" Christa asks reaching to brush the other blonde's sleeve as she passes.

"To get some answers," Annie replies bluntly.

"We'll come with you." Ymir offers, taking Christa by the hand as she rises from the bench.

"Huh? Why?!" Christa trembles. Annie storms off without acknowledging them.

"Because I know you. You'll bend the rules for others but you won't lift a finger to help yourself," Ymir snaps dragging the blonde after her with a vicious growl.

"So are you both not going to eat these, then?!" Sasha calls hopefully after the pair of them as they follow Annie out of the hall.

"What are you talking about?" Christa blinks as she finally straightens up.

"Why did you give that greedy beggar the bread I gave you?"

"Because," Christa pauses to slip into her dark green raincoat and shrug on the hood before following Annie unto the drizzling grounds. "If Commandant Sadies feels I deserve smaller servings because I'm weak, then what right do I have to oppose that?"

"That's not true and you know it!" Ymir barks grabbing the blonde by the front of her coat and lifting her to her face.

"Quite certain of that are we?" Annie muses quietly.

"Excuse me?" Ymir asks turning to face the loner.

"It's a perfectly logical reason." Annie shrugs. "Makes a lot of sense if you really think about it. Starve the weaklings to feed the strong." Christa flinches slightly at this and lowers her gaze with a hurt grimace, awkwardly rubbing her arm. "With food being so scarce these days we can't afford to fatten up weaklings who'll most likely only end up as titan fodder."

"Oh, yeah?" The freckled girl growls as she releases the blonde. "So how come your serving was also reduced?"

"That's exactly what I was hoping to find out," Annie replies, unfazed by Ymir's menacing glower.

"Why you—" Christa rushes to block the taller girl's path, stretching her arms wide with a beseeching smile. "C-Christa?"

"Ymir, please. No fighting." Annie walks away.

"Why'd you stop me?" Ymir's shoulders tremble visibly as Christa takes her hand in hers, calmly leading her back towards the mess hall. "I could have taken that smug bitch."

"I didn't want you to get in trouble."

"That bitch has it coming. Who the fuck does she—where does she get off calling you a weakling when she's a notorious slacker?!"

"Being a weakling and being a slacker are two entirely different things," Christa mumbles meekly. "We all know that even with all her slacking off she's most likely going to end up graduating in the top ten percent. Honestly, at this point, it's a tossup between her and Mikasa graduating at the top of our year."

"And you're fine with that?" Ymir asks incredulously. Christa meets her gaze. "You're just going to roll over like some dog and take that kind of abuse simply because she's stronger than you?"

"I didn't say that," Christa replies self-consciously lowering her voice as they reenter the crowded mess hall.

"Let me tell you something, _Christa_ ," Ymir snarls. "Stronger is not always better. What you lack in strength and agility you more than make up for with compassion and charisma."

"Ymir, please." Christa chuckles. "Lower your voice."

"Finally, Oh thank goodness!" Mina exclaims breathlessly as she sprints to grab their sleeves, turning to drag them after her. "I'm not sure how much longer Thomas, Jean, and Connie can hold her."

"Hold who off?!" Ymir wonders.

When they arrive at their table, Thomas Wagner is clutching the edge of the bench with a dazed frown as Marco Bodt hovers uncertainly between him and Jean Kirchstein who is swearing loudly and hopping on one foot whilst clutching his other with a pained frown. Connie Springer is wrestling valiantly with a drooling Sasha who is writhing and twisting madly, desperately trying to slip his grasp and pounce on the three unattended trays of food sitting on the table before her.

"For the love of God, woman…calm the fuck down!" Connie cries out with a strained expression as he slips an arm around the tall, redhead's neck, pulling back with all his might.

"I wasn't sure if you guys were done eating," Mina explains with an apologetic frown as she moves to help Jean. "You'd barely touched it so I figured you'd return to finish it later. But Sasha went into a frenzy when I tried to stop her from eating it. Thankfully the boys were passing by and were able to restrain her."

"Greedy bitch," Ymir growls angrily as she grabs the redhead by the hair, yanking her off their overwhelmed classmate who sinks to the floor with a grateful sigh.

"Are you boys alright?" Mina and Christa ask in unison as they rush to attend to the injured boys. Thomas Wagner nods quietly whilst Jean Kirchstein abruptly straightens up and inexplicably lowers his foot. Eren and Armin cast confused glances over their shoulders at them as they walk past with their empty trays, Mikasa sandwiched between them.

"I'll get Thomas to bed, hopefully, it's nothing a good night's sleep can't fix," Marco announces cheerfully as he and Connie move to help their classmate out.

"She headbutted me! I can't believe she fucking head-butted me. I mean who does that?" Thomas asks incredulously, swaggering dangerously between them.

"Now, now. I don't think it was intentional." Marco offers with a diplomatic smile.

"Not intentional? I think she broke my nose!" Thomas complains.

"Uh, excuse me! I could use a little help here too," Jean calls after them prompting Connie to face him.

"You looked fine to me a moment ago," the bald trainee notes with a disinterested frown.

"Well, that was because Mika—Mind your damn business you dimwitted pipsqueak!" Jean snaps unnecessarily, brandishing his fist.

"What was that, horse face?! Did you break a hoof or something?!" Connie shoots back dropping Thomas' other arm to glare at the taller boy, all thoughts of assisting his dazed classmate completely forgotten.

"Horses can't break their hooves, you idiot!"

"Well, you would know!"

"Come on, let's finish up quickly before curfew." Ymir sinks unto the bench with a small sigh pulling her tray towards her before freezing as she spots Annie's tray beside her. Christa watches the back of the taller girl's head slowly but surely turn towards the antisocial girl's food as she reaches out to pick it up. Ymir rises from the bench, Annie's tray in hand and calmly walks towards the disposal bins located at the far end of the hall where a small line of trainees are forming. She turns to make small talk with Reiner Braun who is standing in line behind her before hurling Annie's untouched food into the trash. She dumps the now-empty tray unto the pile of used trays with a pleased flourish before returning to their table with a triumphant smirk.

"Why'd you do that?" Christa asked quietly as she rejoined her.

"I told you, bitch had it coming," Ymir rationalizes slowly before tearing off a piece of bread and tossing it into her mouth.

"That wasn't very nice." The blonde's small hands shiver with indignant anger as she lowers her eyes unto her own tray.

"Well, neither was she."

"You can't go around hurting people that piss you off."

"Why not?" Ymir shrugs. "If she can go around being a smug bitch, why can't I—"

"I think she was upset you called Armin a daffodil," Christa snaps angrily.

"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?" Ymir wonders, clearly taken aback.

"I've caught her watching him every now and then." The freckled girl's eyes widen slightly at this. "I think she has a crush on him and didn't like how you spoke about him."

"Even if that's true, what does that have to do with her calling you a weakling?"

"She probably figured it would hurt you a lot more if she went after me instead of you." Christa shrugs. Ymir considers her words quietly for a few moments before finally turning away with an annoyed grunt.

"So," Mina asks returning to pick up her now-empty tray. "How did it go?"

"We didn't go," Christa informs her with an awkward smile. "But I think Annie still went."

"Oh, why didn't you go?" Mina blinks with a confused frown. "Wouldn't it have been better for you to plead your case with the Commandant directly?"

"Reiner thinks it's some sort of stupid training exercise," Ymir blurts out as she finishes her soup with a loud slurp. "His boyfriend Bertholdt's serving was also considerably lower tonight."

"I see," Mina gasps taken aback. "That would make sense, Bertholdt's a model student. I don't think I've ever seen the Commandant yell at him or really harass him like he does with most of us. He and Mikasa are the only ones in our year who bear that distinction."

"That's true," Christa admits with a bemused blink.

"Yeah, he's even gotten on Reiner's case a couple of times for not following orders," Mina adds.

"I wonder what kind of training exercise it is." Christa muses later as she and Ymir walk over to put up their plates.

"It's probably one of those lame teamwork-building exercises or assessments," Ymir shrugs with a disinterested yawn as they put on their raincoat hoods.

"I wonder if Annie was on to something earlier." The freckled girl turns to eye her with a bemused smirk. "Think about it. If they wanted us to go without food the servers could have easily denied us."

"That would be too cruel." Ymir scoffs.

"Maybe we were deliberately given a third of our servings because the Commandant wanted us to pool our resources together and choose which one of us was more deserving of a full meal." Ymir halts suddenly at this.

"I take that back," she says quietly. " _That_ sounds a lot crueler than sending three trainees to bed hungry."

"Maybe it was a test to see who we would choose as the most valuable," Christa continues with a disheartened sigh.

"I think you're over thinking this," Ymir opines. "Reiner's not exactly a mental powerhouse so we probably shouldn't take his word for it. I still think it was punishment for something. Annie and Bertholdt I get—"

"Huh?" Christa arches an eyebrow at this. They had reached their dormitory and quickly slipped out of their soaked clothes before gathering their things and heading towards the girls' bathroom for a quick bath.

"That bitch's always slacking off, maybe Sadies finally had enough of her shit and decided to punish her," Ymir explains as they carry their buckets of water towards the bathing area.

"But why punish Bertholdt too?"

"Come on, you've seen the way he's around her." Ymir scoffs. "Always watching her like some lovesick—"

"Ixnay on the Aienbay." Hannah Diamant warns beneath her breath as she passes by. They both turn to watch the girl with identical confused expressions. Ymir opens her mouth to call out to the girl when she notices Annie dumping a pail of water over her head mere meters away.

"Why that—" Ymir growls through her teeth as she watches the antisocial girl begin to gather her things into her bucket. "So, it's good to know that someone frightens you." She calls out to Annie.

"What?" The loner asks, gathering her blonde locks into a messy bun as she turns to face them. Christa nudges Ymir with a nervous smile.

"I was talking about the Commandant," Ymir smirks leaning forward with her hands on her hips. "I thought you were going to ask him about dinner."

"I did." A chorus of surprised gasps fills the room as the other girls turn to watch them with shocked expressions, abandoning their feeble attempts at feigning indifference.

"Bullshit!" Ymir spits angrily. Annie merely stoops to pick up her bucket before turning to walk away. "Oh, yeah! Prove it then. If you really went to confront the Commandant what did he have to say?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Annie returns casting a smug smirk over her shoulder.

"I would actually," Ymir presses taking a step towards the smaller girl. Christa steps between them once more with an appeasing smile.

"Then go ask him yourself." Annie challenges before walking away. The bathroom erupts with excited chatter as the girls breathlessly debate whether or not Annie had been telling the truth.

"You should do it Ymir," Hannah urges as she and Christa slip into their nightwear.

"Do what?" The freckled girl asks as her eyebrow twitches irritably.

"Ask the Commandant."

"Do I look stupid to you?" Ymir growls.

"But don't you want to know why poor Christa's getting punished?" Mina wonders.

"Of course I do!"

"I don't think it's punishment," Christa opines meekly. "I think it's a training exercise like Reiner suggested. Why else would Annie and Bertholdt be fine with it?"

"You think Bertholdt asked too?" Sasha gasps. "The Commandant seems to respect him and Mikasa a lot. They've never been grilled or chewed out like the rest of us have been."

"Doubt it. He's more of the suffer-in-silence type," Ymir scoffs. "If anyone would ask it would be that meathead Reiner."

"I'll bet Reiner did. He's fearless and very protective of Bertholdt." Mina agrees.

"We should probably go ask them, then," Ymir suggests nudging Christa with a mischievous wink as the blonde moves to climb unto the higher bunk.

"Are you insane?!" Christa gasps prompting the freckled girl to roll over into a fit of laughter. "We'll be expelled if we're caught breaking curfew to sneak into the boy's dormitory."

"That is _if_ we get caught." Ymir amends. "Besides, Hannah knows a shortcut. Don't you Hannah?"

"Huh?! Why do you think I—" The freckled ginger stutters.

"Come on, we all know you sneak off at night to see your precious Franz." Ymir taunts pursing her lips with exaggerated kissing noises.

"For the last time, Franz and I are not dating!" Hanna snaps, falling unto her bed with an indignant huff.

"What do you think, Mikasa?" Mina asks as the stoic Ackerman climbs into her bed.

"About what?" Mikasa asks quietly as she shifts into a more comfortable position.

"Do you think my precious Christa is being unfairly punished for that witch's—" Ymir pauses to point accusingly at Annie's sleeping form. "—slacking off. Or do you think it's some sort of stupid training exercise like that meathead Reiner." Mikasa turns quietly scanning the faces watching her expectantly before settling on Christa's.

"You want to know what I think?" She asks addressing the blonde who nods meekly. "I think you need to get as much sleep as possible."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **I'm anime only so please no spoilers or discussions about future plot developments if you decide to leave a review. I'm currently on season three episode nine of the anime series so I still have a long way to go.**

 **What does "ixnay on the unsgay" mean and what's the origin of the phrase?**

 **This is slang combined with Pig Latin.**

 **"Pig Latin" is a children's game for disguising words. There are a few slight variations on the rules, but all the versions involve taking the initial consonant sound from a word and moving it to the end, then adding "-ay."**

 **For example, "boy" becomes "oy-bay" or simply "** oybay **."**

 **To translate this phrase back to regular English, you reverse the process and end up with "nix on the guns."**

 **"Nix" is a slang term that means, generally, "don't do that," or some variation. In this context, you would be telling someone not to bring the guns, or not to use them, or in some other way "** nix **" them.**

 **source: What-does-ixnay-on-the-unsgay-mean-and-whats-the-origin-of-the-phrase**


	2. Ice

**Chapter Two: Ice**

Christa blinks groggily at the thick mist pressing against the dormitory windows. From the corner of her eye, she notices movement and starts slightly when a disembodied hand slides into view.

"Good, you're awake," a female training assistant remarks curtly as she turns to walk out. "I want you both ready to move out in ten minutes."

Christa moves into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes before lowering them to scan the dark room. Judging by the piercing darkness beyond and the light breathing of her sleeping classmates it is sometime after midnight.

Something yellow moves past her bed prompting her to crane her neck to the side for a better look. Annie Leonhardt stoops down to lace up her boots, blonde hair neatly tied in her signature bun, sweatshirt hood draped over her uniform jacket.

"Good morning," Christa greets climbing down from her bed with a sleepy yawn. Annie ignores her and finishes tying her boots instead before moving to follow the training assistant. Christa sighs quietly as she reaches down towards her drawer to pull out her uniform and jacket. She freezes when she notices Ymir watching her with a blank stare.

"So," the freckled girl chuckles. "It _was_ a training exercise." Christa nods quietly as she binds her breasts tightly with a roll of bandages, small hands trembling visibly. "Are you scared?"

"I have to go." She slips on her white shirt, hastily buttoning it before sliding into her trousers.

Ymir quietly sits up, pulling her knees against her chest as she watches the smaller girl get dressed with an inscrutable frown. Christa gently slides the dresser shut as she straightens up to leave prompting Ymir to wrap her hands around the smaller girl, pressing her chest tightly to her back.

"Just be safe, you hear?" Christa nods with an appreciative smile as she moves to pull away. Ymir resists, maintaining her grip around Christa's neck as she presses her forehead to the nape of her neck. "I want you to promise me one thing. Promise me that you'll come back safe. Promise me that whatever happens, you'll look out for yourself first before anyone else."

"Why are you acting like this?" Christa wonders shifting to give her a confused look. "It's just a training exercise."

"I don't know why they wanted you three to perform on an empty stomach but I can't imagine that being to your advantage," Ymir explains. "We both know that Annie will always look after Annie's best interests. And Bertholdt will protect that witch at all costs. Are you listening to me! They will both sacrifice you first if it ever came to that."

"Ymir," Christa sighs as she finally extricates herself from her friend's embrace. "We're comrades. I'm going to protect my comrades and I'm sure they're going to protect me too. Wish me luck!"

Before the freckled girl could respond, the blonde dashed out of the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

The training assistant shoots her an impatient glare as she emerges from the room. Apologizing profusely, the blonde turns to follow her into the chilly early morning air. The fog is thick and hangs ominously around them as the crunching of dead leaves and grass accompanies their measured steps. Christa squints as she makes out the faint outline of a wagon parked a few meters away.

"You're late," the wagon driver complains.

"Sorry, her _majesty_ was taking her sweet time getting ready." The female explains with an annoyed roll of her eyes. "Get in!" Christa scrambles to hop into the wagon but freezes when she realizes that her legs are too short to lift her up. Inside the wagon, she notices Annie's distinct outline sitting patiently with her arms crossed.

 _How did she…?_

"Need a hand?" Bertholdt Hoover offers kindly as he leans toward her. The blonde nods bashfully prompting him to climb out of the wagon. He lands gracefully beside her, intertwining his long, strong fingers as he lowers himself unto one knee. "Up you go."

"Thank you," Christa mutters breathlessly as she gingerly places her foot unto his large palm. His palm holds steady, bearing her weight effortlessly as she propels herself up. She hastily climbs unto the wagon and turns around to help him up only to find him already sliding into the seat across from her.

"No problem," he shrugs with a small smile before turning to glance over at Annie's dozing form.

Annie barely stirs when the wagon abruptly takes off with a jarring lurch that sends Christa and Bertholdt reeling to the side.

"Wow, she must really be tired, huh?" He notes with a nervous chuckle when he turns to find Christa watching him. The blonde blushes slightly, averting her gaze respectfully as she nods in response.

"Where do you think they're taking us?" Christa asks sweetly. The tall youth shrugs and shakes his head with an uncertain smile. "I wonder what they have planned for us."

"Obviously a training exercise," Annie states with an irritated sigh, not bothering to open her eyes.

"Do you know what kind?" Bertholdt asks quietly shifting to face her expectantly. She shrugs her shoulders before shifting into a more comfortable position. "You don't seem nervous."

"I'm not." She replies tersely.

"But aren't you concerned about it affecting your grade?" Christa wonders. "You didn't have any dinner and we're all operating on less than four hours of sleep."

"And whose fault is that?" Annie sneers lifting her eyelids ever so slightly to glower at Christa. The demure blonde flushes darkly as she lowers her gaze, twiddling her thumbs nervously as she mumbles an apology. They spend the rest of the trip in awkward silence.

When the wagon comes to a stop, Bertholdt is the first to hop out, offering Annie a hand which she pointedly refuses, leaping from the wagon before walking away. Christa accepts his kind gesture with an appreciative smile, trailing him as they approach the distant silhouette of a rickety pulley suspended over a cliff overlooking a half-frozen lake.

"Morning, you worthless sacks of maggot shit!" Keith Sadies greets in his customary manner as they line up before him. "Today we'll be running a training exercise." He moves aside as the pulley lowers a large crate unto the forest floor. The Commandant reaches out to one of the training assistants who promptly deposits a thick length of rope unto his palm. He quietly tests the rope's strength before hurling it at Annie with a satisfied nod.

The blonde catches the rope without flinching or missing a beat, wordlessly returning her hands to their position behind her back.

"Lenz!" Christa feels her heart leap into her throat as she turns to salute the fearsome Commandant. "Get inside the crate."

"Yes, sir!" The blonde squeaks before clambering into the crate with trembling feet.

"Sit!" He barks. She complies. "Hoover," he pauses and pulls up a chair Christa hadn't noticed before as the trainee steps forward. "Sit." Bertholdt obediently lowers his imposing form unto the chair. "Hands behind your back." The tall trainee wordlessly complies as the Commandant turns to face Annie once more. "Remember our discussion yesterday?"

"Yes, sir." She replies with a salute.

"Off you get." The Commandant steps back allowing Annie to walk behind Bertholdt. Christa's breath hitches as she lifts the rope she had received earlier. Bertholdt Hoover stiffens visibly as the blonde sinks to her knees behind him. Heat tints his cheeks as he nervously lowers his gaze to study his long feet when her deceptively small hands pull his wrists together. Silence fills the air as they all watch Annie begin to tie a knot around Bertholdt's hands.

"I'm sorry sir, what knot did you—" Annie begins to ask before she is abruptly cut off by Keith Sadies.

"Use your best judgment." The blonde returns to her task, pausing briefly to cast a glance over her shoulder at the half-frozen lake below. Christa mimics her and instantly feels her blood run cold. Her gaze moves from the lake to the edges of the crate before resting on the rickety pulley dangling above them.

"E-e-excuse m-me, sir am I—"

"Done?" Sadies barks as Annie straightens up. She nods before moving to return to her original position. "Into the box Hoover." Christa awkwardly shifts to climb out prompting the Commandant to face her. "Who asked you to get out, Lenz?"

"N-nobody, s-sir." She stutters nervously eyeing Bertholdt's approaching form.

"I-inside sir?" Bertholdt's cheeks flush darkly as the Commandant nods impatiently. He lifts his long, legs, lowering his towering frame into the crate with a bemused expression.

"Secure it," Sadies barks at Annie who rushes to lift the crate cover. Bertholdt is forced to lower his head as she gently places the cover over them.

"Good luck," Annie whispers softly as they are both plunged into darkness. Christa jumps when a hammer slams suddenly above them causing Bertholdt to bang his head against the crate cover.

"Holler if you maggots can hear me!"

"Sir!" Bertholdt and Christa cry out in unison over the deafening din of the banging hammer.

"Right. Like I said earlier this is a training exercise. This exercise is designed to test three things: your strength, endurance, and critical thinking. In a minute, once Leonhardt is done nailing you in, we'll lower you unto the frozen surface of the lake. You are to use the tools available to you to free yourselves and return to safety before the ice cracks. Fail and you die! Let me be clear when I say that the only way out of this box is through your own ability. There will be no reinforcements. No rescue operation. You're it! Now you're free to take as much time as you need however, we will only wait around for you folks for one hour. If after an hour you have not returned to this location, you will be walking home. Any questions?"

"What tools?!" Bertholdt shouts immediately.

"You're looking at it," the Commandant replies unhelpfully.

Before either of them could articulate a response or make sense of his words, the Commandant yells the signal for the assistants to lower the crate. They tumble violently around, pressing awkwardly against each other as the crate is lifted high into the air. "You may only begin once you hear my warning shot."

"Christa, right?" The blonde turns to study Bertholdt's face in the dim light streaming into the crate from above. Jade green eyes crinkle kindly as he flashes her an assuring smile. "Please, don't cry."

"I'm not crying." She sniffles sheepishly wiping her eyes slowly. He chuckles lightly but says nothing in response, shifting slowly to peer through the hole in the crate. Christa watches him in silent wonder. Although his hands were bound behind his back and his long legs were pressed uncomfortably close to his broad chest, his features remained relaxed and focused as he gently twisted and shifted his shoulders experimentally. "I'm so sorry."

"Hmm?" He turns towards her with a confused arch of his eyebrows. "What for?"

"You'd be much better off stuck with Annie as a partner instead of me." Heat fills his cheeks as he hastily returns his gaze to the hole in the crate.

"It's fine," he mutters meekly. "You don't have to apologize."

"I know why they tied your hands," she mumbles with a disheartened smile. He turns to give her a quizzical look prompting her to elaborate. "I'm sure breaking this crate would have been a cinch for you if your arms were untied."

"I'm not so sure about that," he blushes shyly. "M-maybe Reiner but I'm not nearly as strong as he is."

"You're being too modest." Christa chuckles blushing slightly. "Everyone respects and looks up to you—"

"Literally," he chuckles bashfully prompting her to chuckle louder.

"Anyways, you, Reiner, Mikasa and Annie—you're all freaks of nature. Sometimes it's hard to believe that we're all age mates. You're really amazing. Eren and the others told us how you and R—"

"Stop!" He snaps abruptly, a note of urgency underlining his tone.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Seriously!" He hisses prompting her to fall deathly still, watching him with a confused frown. "Something's wrong." The crate begins to sway and rock wildly. "Bloody hell, brace yourself, Christa!"

Her question is suddenly cut by a deafening snap followed by a violent lurch as a brief feeling of weightlessness overcomes them.

"What's going on?!" She cries out in panic.

"Lie on your back!" Bertholdt calls back.

"What?" She screams back as their crate begins to plummet. "That doesn't make any—"

"We're in freefall, Christa," he explains turning to hold her gaze. "Now lie on your fucking back." Blue eyes watch him paralyzed with fear as her sweaty palms cling desperately to the crate walls around her. "Christa," he calls her calmly. "Lie on your back!" She barely has time to lower herself unto her back when the floor of the crate vibrates violently with the force of their descent.

A moment passes as Christa waits with bated breath for a blinding flash of light that never comes. Gritting her teeth, she cracks an eyelid open peering frantically to assess their situation. The crate miraculously remained intact, somehow surviving their fall from the precipitous cliff. Wincing slightly as she moves into a sitting position, Christa turns to appraise her partner's condition.

"Bertholdt?!" She cries out when she notices his motionless form pressed against hers. When he doesn't respond, she crawls forward, shifting his knees apart as she slides unto his lap. "Bertholdt!" Blue eyes widen in shock as they trail a steady stream of blood trickling down the side of his long face. Leaning forward, she presses her ear against his chest listening frantically for a heartbeat. Relief floods every pore of her body when a strong but frenzied heartbeat thumps powerfully beneath his broad chest.

" _ **Fail and you die! Let me be clear when I say that the only way out of this box is through your own ability. There will be no reinforcements. No rescue operation. You're it!"**_

 _We have to do something! I have to do something! Bertholdt's out cold. If I don't do something we'll both die!_

Lifting her small fists, she turns to pound and kick at the crate roof and walls with a desperate growl. They hold fast, never once bulging or buckling beneath her relentless kicks and punches. Tears of anger and frustration stream down her cheeks as she draws a deep, steadying breath before sinking back to think.

 _It's no use! I thought the fall would have compromised the crate but that's clearly not the case. It's almost as if…it was built to withstand the force of our fall._

Her gaze trails to Berthold's passive features as a harrowing thought finally occurs to her.

 _Everything about this training exercise was planned and well thought out. They deliberately kept Bertholdt and I from eating enough last night in order to weaken us. Then they dragged us out of bed half asleep to this deserted place. But what is the point? There has to be a point. The Commandant didn't select us randomly. No, we were selected for this assignment for a very specific reason. Just like this crate._ She turns to eye the wooden surface with an attentive frown. _If the crate was built to withstand a fall that great, there's no way I'm going to have any luck breaking through it._

 _Bertholdt is the only one who has any chance of breaking out of here. It's why the Commandant had Annie bind his hands behind his back._

" _ **You may only begin once you hear my warning shot."**_

 _Wait a minute…I didn't hear any warning shot or approaching footsteps._

She pauses, straining her ears to listen. A low cracking sound fills the air as she feels the chill of the frozen lake seep into the crate beneath them. There was no time to waste. They had only an hour to break out of the crate, climb up the cliff and rejoin the others at the wagon. If they were going to survive this exercise, Christa knew that was their only chance.

 _There's no way Bertholdt and I will be able to trek all the way back to camp hungry and exhausted from this ordeal alone. Think, think, think! If the plan was to gently lower us unto the frozen lake, why not just have us meet at the bottom of the cliff instead of at the top where they would need to use a pulley to lower us? Come to think of it, that pulley didn't look very sturdy from the get-go. There's no way the Commandant would miss something like that._

" _ **This exercise is designed to test three things: your strength, endurance, and critical thinking."**_

 _If the pulley wasn't sturdy enough to hold our combined weights, there's no way the Commandant wouldn't have known that. If the Commandant knew that then the only reason he'd make us use it regardless was if he was banking on it to snapping. But why? Why would he want us to fall? Was it to disorient us? To surprise us?_

She listens again, blinking slowly as the gentle trickle of water reaches her. _No! Could it be? Could we have cracked the lake when we fell? If so it's only a matter of time before—_

Her breath hitches as water begins to seep into the crate.

 _That bastard! They deliberately dropped us to disorient us and crack the frozen surface of the lake! They didn't bother firing the warning shot because they probably figured that we'd either be out cold, dazed or too freaked out to hear it if they did._

"Bertholdt!" When he doesn't stir or respond, she blonde scoops a handful of freezing cold water to splash on his face. Her shivering fingers give way before she can lift the water to his face, dropping the water unto his lap instead. He lets out a loud, sharp gasp as he finally stirs.

"A-Annie?" He moans softly, dark green eyes blinking slowly at her. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Historia scoops his face into her small hands, pursing her lips as she leans forward to kiss his cheeks. He shifts his head to the side at the last minute causing her lips to brush against his instead. "Christa!" His eyes are wide and horrified as he unleashes a stream of profuse apologies. She leans back away from him, blushing slightly as she waves aside his apology.

"Are you alright?" She asks gently dabbing at the cut on his face. Green eyes trail her small hand as it gingerly presses the deep gash on his head.

"I'll live." He shifts forward. "This is bad. When did water start leaking in?"

"Uh, not long, about a minute or so ago," she replies.

"Not good," he mutters twisting his shoulders as he desperately tries to free his hands.

"Wait!" Christa urges him gently grasping his broad shoulders. "Gently. You'll dislocate your shoulder if you keep doing that."

"Might make this knot a lot easier to slip," he muses with a half smile, pushing himself into a squatting position. He lifts his tall frame as high as the crate will allow him, pressing his back against the roof with a low grunt.

"It's no use," Christa moans as he settles down with an exasperated sigh. An idea suddenly pops into her head as she unbuckles the harness running horizontally over her chest. "Sadies said we could use any tools we had." He arches an eyebrow as she rips the metal buckle from the leather harness. "Lean here, I'll try to cut the rope enough for you to slip the knot."

Bertholdt's eyes widen as he leans away instead, concealing his hand from her view.

"What's wrong, Bertholdt?"

"You can't cut the rope."

"It'll take some time but I'm sure—"

"When I say 'can't' I really mean 'shouldn't'," he amends.

"What do you mean?" Christa demands. "Annie's the best at tying knots in our entire year. That's probably why Commandant Sadies selected her to do it. The only way you're slipping that knot is if you dislocate your shoulder. And you can't do that. You'll need both hands to smash this crate."

"Remember what the Commandant said about us using our tools?" Bertholdt asks. Although it felt like a rhetorical question, Christa gamely nods in response. "Do you see any ODM gear around?" She freezes at this finally realizing his point. "When we get out of here, this rope will be our best shot at scaling that cliff. We have to find a way to slip me out of it without damaging or destroying it."

"But I don't know anything about knots!" Christa cries shoulders trembling harshly as dread grips her once more.

"Christa, it's alright," Bertholdt assures her with a kind smile. "Just breathe and calm down. Alright?"

"I'm so sorry!" She wails rubbing her eyes instead. "I'm a failure of a soldier."

"No, you are not!" He snaps nudging her hand away from her face with his knee.

"You're so flexible," Christa observes quietly, smiling through her tears in spite of herself.

"What do you mean?" Bertholdt blinks blankly at her. She nods at his limber legs twisted gracefully into an awkward arch. "Oh, this? This is nothing." He strains slightly pressing his back against the roof with all his might once more. "The boys claim that I become something of a contortionist when I'm asleep." She chuckles once more as she remembers how peacefully he had seemed whilst out cold within their cramped quarters. "Christa, do you know why they put you in this box with me?" The blonde starts, blinking slowly in confusion before shaking her head. "You were put in here to help me slip out of this knot."

" _ **You are to use the tools available to you to free yourselves and return to safety before the ice cracks."**_

 _Of course! That's why they didn't bother tying my hands._


	3. Fire

**Chapter Three: Fire**

"I see how it is," she teases sliding towards him. "Because I'm tiny, huh?"

"That and because you're able to think rationally under intense pressure." He assures her. "Think about it. If they just needed someone tiny to stick in here with me they would have partnered me with Annie or even Armin."

"I'm unhurt because of you." Christa shakes her head slowly. "You immediately figured out the best course of action once you knew what was happening. You calmed me down and helped me avoid serious injury."

"Only because I trusted you to wake me up and help me slip out of these binds," he returns bluntly. "If I didn't trust you I would have done it myself." Her eyes widen at his words as she feels something warm radiate from the center of her chest. "Christa, please. I need your help now."

Pursing her lips together, the blonde shifts unto his lap, straddling him with her short, slender legs. She twists around, studying the intricate twists of Annie's knot. Her breath hitches when she recognizes the complex patterns of loops binding Bertholdt's wrists together.

 _What on earth?!_

"Christa? What's wrong?" Bertholdt asks twisting his long neck to study her. The blonde hastily shoves his head in the opposite direction with an impatient growl as she lowers her hands to tug at the knot.

" _ **I'm sorry sir, what knot did you—"**_ She remembered Annie say earlier.

" _ **Use your best judgment."**_ The Commandant had barked tersely.

 _Annie! What on earth was she thinking tying a Langford Double knot in a situation like this?!_

"What's wrong?" Bertholdt repeats.

"Nothing," Christa lies. He freezes as he shifts to meet her gaze once more.

"It's the knot isn't it?" When she says nothing he lets out a small, mirthless chuckle. "Judging by your heartbeat and your ashen expression, she tied a Langford double, didn't she?"

"H-how ca-an y-ou tell?" The blonde gasps thoroughly impressed.

"Sadies asked her to use her best judgment. The Langford double is the worst kind of knot for a situation like this."

"Just because it's not a wet knot doesn't mean—"

"Open your eyes, Christa! We're already knee deep in frozen water. This crate will be submerged within the hour." He sighs weakly. "I can only keep my wrists elevated for so long. Once the knot becomes wet that's it. The rope will swell and all chances of me slipping out of this knot disappear just like that."

"So work with me here!" Christa growls fiercely at him as his shoulders slouch in defeat.

"What's the point?" He shrugs. "Annie intentionally tied a Langford double—"

"Because she knew that you could slip it." Christa finishes prompting him to give her a disbelieving scoff.

"Yeah, right."

"So that's it? You're just giving up? Just like that?" Christa asks shaking him back and forth, inadvertently grinding her hips against his in the process.

"C-Christ-a-a! Stop, please!" The blonde watches him with a confused frown. His cheeks are flushed a deep crimson, his thin lips twisted into a pained grimace as he squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face away from her.

"Stop what?" He shakes his head vigorously in response, his Adam's apple quivering as he shifts slightly to grant her better access to his wrists.

Pressed flush between his long, muscular thighs and hard chest, the blonde lowers her head as she twists her small body around, tiny fingers frantically working at the expertly tied knot. She works quietly for several long, pregnant moments, ignoring the green-eyed giant's harsh raspy breaths and the subtle tilt of the crate as frigid water begins to flood their tiny prison. She lunges forward with a determined grunt, eliciting a pained growl from Bertholdt as her hips drag against his.

"Sorry," She mutters turning to face him. When she notices the pained expression on his features, she leans back to inspect him for any other injuries she might have missed. His wrists twist ever so slightly pulling her hands forward, causing her to crash gently against his chest.

"Don't," he hisses through gritted teeth. "Don't look down. Please." She parts her lips to ask why and instantly feels something long and hard pulsing between them. Against her better judgment, she glances down, immediately noticing the painful outline of his erection straining beneath his trousers.

Heat floods her cheeks as her head snaps up immediately. Their eyes meet and she immediately feels a strange twitch in her own nether region as it presses against his engorged sex. A pained hiss escapes his slightly parted lips as he manages to draw a low, rasping breath. He turns to hold her gaze.

"I-I'm s-sorry," they murmur in unison, hot breaths ghosting against their flushed features as her body sinks further against his powerful frame. Wrapping her hands around his broad, muscular shoulders, she arches her back, grinding her hips slowly at first against his. Blue eyes hungrily drink the yearning reflected in half-lidded jade green eyes as a feral growl builds at the back of his throat. His shoulders shift awkwardly beneath them as she cradles his jaw, lifting his face towards her hot, panting mouth.

He moans ardently against her lips as they jealously claim his in a bruising kiss, releasing them only to suckle and nibble the exposed flesh of his long neck. Her eyes widen when she feels his powerful, long fingers press against the small of her back, holding her fast against him.

"B-Bertholdt!" She gasps taken aback as she pulls away to examine his hands. "You're free!" He nods simply in response, large fingers pressing her blonde head down protectively as he slams his free forearm against the crate cover. The blonde gasps as the mighty blow dislodges a nail, creating a crack in the ceiling. Eyebrows twisting in concentration, he bangs his forearm against the crate once more leaving a large dent. Slipping long fingers through the hole he had created, Bertholdt Hoover presses his palm against the crate cover pushing against it with all his might.

"Hang on!" He warns as the crate begins to slide towards the frigid water. Christa crawls towards him, wrapping her hands tightly against his waist as he lifts the crate cover off with a final mighty push. Tears of relief and elation stream down her cheeks as she stares up at the brightening morning sky. "Come on." The blonde jumps slightly as she turns to watch Bertholdt lift a long leg over the crate before turning around towards her.

Strong hands sweep her off her feet, effortlessly lifting her out of the crate before depositing her on the cracking ice surface.

"Run!" He urges her as the deafening roar of cracking ice erupts around them. The blonde turns and flees for dear life, not daring to stop until she had reached the safety of dry land. Bertholdt crashes unto the ground beside her, gasping and panting madly as he struggles to catch his breath. Their eyes meet and she leaps into his arms, knocking him over as they tumble and roll around laughing hysterically as tears of joy sting her eyes.

"You're amazing!" She straddles him once more, small hands resting against his heaving chest. "Do you hear me, Bertholdt Hoover? Amazing!" He smiles bashfully as he averts his gaze.

"We're not out of the woods yet," he mutters turning to pick himself up. She rises to her feet and moves to help him up but freezes when she notices the state of his wrists. Deep, bloody sores encircle the skin of his wrists where the knots had bound him. "What's wrong?" He asks turning to face her when he notices her staring at his wrists.

"Y-your wrists!"

"It's fine," he remarks dismissively. "Come on, we have to get to higher ground."

"What's the point?" She asks. "It's been over an hour. They're long gone by now. We need to treat your wrists."

"It's fine." He assures her quietly, turning to examine them as if noticing them for the first time.

Christa shakes her head, taking him by the hand as she leads him towards the base of the cliff.

"Turn around," she orders. He wordlessly obeys, turning until his large back is facing her. Small hands hastily unbutton her shirt, shrugging it off before loosening the bandages binding her breasts. She quickly slips her shirt back on before patting him on the back, prompting him to face her.

"Where did you—"

"It doesn't matter," she snaps hastily cutting him off as her cheeks flush furiously. She gently wraps the bandages around his unsightly rope marks, turning to give him a shy smile. "Sorry. I know it's not much but—"

"They're warm." He marvels cutting her off as he lifts his wrists to inspect them. Shaking her head vigorously, she turns to lift the rope dangling from his wrists. "Thank you." He freezes when his gaze falls on her shivering form.

"It's nothing compared to what you've done," she scoffs with a sad smile prompting him to pull her towards him. The blonde stiffens noticeably as her erect nipples press unto his broad powerful chest.

"I couldn't have slipped the knot without you." He smiles. A shiver runs through her spine as their eyes meet once more. "Are you cold?" He asks, pressing her closer against his body without waiting for a response.

"Y-you're sh-shivering too," she observes, teeth chattering slightly as she lowers her gaze to his damp pants. She reddens when she notices the outline of his manhood once more as she is reminded of the delicious friction between their nether regions. Her vulva moistens in anticipation as she watches him deftly twist the rope into a sturdy knot.

"Come on, we have to scale the cliff first," he says rubbing a clump of earth over his large palms. "Once we do that we can make a fire and warm ourselves."

A nasty wind sweeps through the valley, causing the blonde to double over, overwhelmed by an intense rash of shivers. Bertholdt approaches her, shrugging off his jacket which he immediately dumps unto her shoulder enveloping her in an indescribably intense furnace. She purses her lips sighing appreciatively as the residual body heat radiating from his jacket seeps into her.

"Don't go," she pleads, small fists clenching around his shirt, holding him fast against her. Pressing her cheeks longingly against his burning chest, she closes her eyes with a content sigh.

"We have to get to higher ground," he mutters softly.

"You're like a furnace," she moans burying her head further against his taut stomach. "Everything about you and your body is just amazing." He awkwardly rubs the back of his head.

"T-thank you?" He mumbles, clearly taken aback.

"Kiss me again."

"Huh?!" He watches her quietly expecting her to explain or retract her request. When she continues watching him expectantly, he moves to pull away instead. She follows after him, not willing to be parted from his molten flesh.

"In the crate," she blushes shyly blinking up at him. "When we kissed, it felt like…my body…our bodies were on fire."

"C-Christa I-I."

"Kiss me, Bertholdt." Unshed tears drown pale blue irises as they watch him beseechingly. "Please." Bending his knees and leaning forward to accommodate for the immense height difference, he wraps his strong, muscular hands around her as he plants a sloppy kiss against the side of her lips. She shifts her head ever so slightly, tilting her neck to grant him better access to her mouth.

"Ch-Christa?!" He cries out pulling away when he feels her small hands fumbling furiously with the buttons of his pants.

"You'll catch a cold if you keep these on," she explains matter-of-factly meeting his gaze. His hands release her small shoulders as he moves to pull away, prompting her to slide her palm unto his groin, cupping his twitching manhood. His eyebrows twist together in an obscene grimace, cheeks flushed noticeably as his chest rises and falls feverishly.

"Pl-please," Jade eyes flutter open as he cries out bucking his hips ever so slightly.

"Bertholdt, what's wrong?" She asks gently stroking him. "Does it hurt?"

"H-harder," he hisses. The blonde flushes as her palm tightens around his twitching organ. "H-harder!" He urges harshly. She freezes as her gaze returns to the painful-looking bulge of his straining manhood.

"Like this?" She asks hesitantly squeezing him through his pants. He crashes sideways into the wall, panting and moaning loudly, eyes twisted shut in shameless pleasure. When she moves to retract her fingers, his strong hand seizes her wrist, holding her firmly in place. Their gazes meet and she is reminded of that moment on the lake, pressed flush against him, her clothed sex yearning for his pulsing member.

"I need—" He throws his head back with a sharp hiss as she gently squeezes him once more, abruptly cutting off his sentence.

"Like that?" He shakes his head prompting her to tighten her grip once move. A feral possessiveness suddenly consumes her as she shoves him roughly unto the ground, sliding unto his lap to straddle him. Leaning forward to wrap one hand intimately around his shoulder, she slips the other beneath his dark blue shirt, stroking his rippling abs with an appreciative sigh.

Lifting his shirt over his head, she casts it carelessly over her shoulders, unbuttoning her own shirt. Round, perky breasts bounce slightly before his half-lidded eyes as she watches his pupils dilate in arousal. She leans down to kiss his massive chest, pressing her hardened nipples flush against him hissing as his burning flesh singes her feverish skin.

Drunk with her newfound power over his lithe, powerful frame, she grinds her hips forward slowly, eyes drinking in the sinful sheen of his fiery need.

" _ **Stronger is not always better. What you lack in strength and agility you more than make up for with compassion and charisma."**_

 _Charisma huh?_ She wonders, recalling her friend's words from the night before. _Is that what this is? Is that why this mighty warrior is moaning shamelessly beneath me, writhing helplessly every time I kiss or touch him?_

"Hnghuh!" A moan catches in the back of his throat as his long forearm bashfully shields his eyes from her.

She loosens the buttons of his pants, sliding his waistband low enough to free his pulsing organ. His forearm promptly falls away as he draws a low, steadying breath through clenched teeth, watching her silently as she seizes his naked flesh in her small hands. She watches him hungrily as his body convulses slightly, bucking and grinding shamelessly into her hand. When his eyes reopen they quickly find her as the haze of lust briefly subsides.

"Are you alright?" She asks quietly. He lowers his gaze, blinking slowly at the sight of her grasping his manhood possessively.

"Christa…" he trails off as slowly but surely comprehension tinges his bottle green eyes. "Christa?!"

"Bertholdt wait! Please! Don't—!" When he continues bucking wildly beneath her, she plants her palms on either side of him shifting her waistband past her pert buttocks before grinding her moist sex against his pulsing member. They both freeze as the mushroom shaped head of his manhood slips past her twitching nether lips eliciting sharp hisses from them.

"C-Ch-Vmmgggh! What are you doing? T-take it out!"

"Why?" She asks tilting her head slightly to the side as she studies him.

"S-saving…for….aahhh knee!"

"Your knee? What's wrong with it?" She asks. He averts his gaze bashfully doing his best to resist the overwhelming impulse to buck into her. "Look at me." When he doesn't obey, she slowly guides his manhood towards her dripping vulva. Green eyes widen as she slowly but surely sinks unto him with an obscene squelch. They both cry out as the indescribable friction shoots through them.

Before she can comprehend what is going on, his strong hands seize her tiny waist, lifting her pert buttocks up before slamming her back down unto him, mercilessly reaming her tight, hot hole.

"B-BERTHOLDT!" She screams slightly taken aback as she drags her fingernails along his back. His large hands fly up between them roughly palming and kneading her bouncing breasts possessively.

"Uuuufff, nnngggghhh, ggrruuppp!" He pants harshly raising his head to suckle her puffy areola. The blonde arches her back as the powerful thrusts of his hips send waves of indescribable pleasure coursing through her. Pulling his head off her nipple with an obscene pop, she leans down, planting a sloppy kiss against his parted lips.

He moans hotly into her mouth as he rolls them over. Mounting her as he crashes his hips into her, he plunges his massive member deep within her sending a shiver of pleasure shooting through her spine.

"B-B-Berth-hol-oh-oh-oh!" A mighty cry rips through her as he erupts inside her, coating her tingling inner walls with his molten seed. He collapses heavily on top of her, crushing her petite form beneath his massive frame as he nuzzles her exposed breasts.

"That was…that was…" his eyes glaze over as he rolls off her, searching for the right words. She shifts unto her side, assuming the fetal position as she shields her breasts with her elbows, watching him with a content smile.

"You're amazing." He turns to face her quietly studying her features as if considering how best to respond. "I really mean it Bertholdt Hoover."

"Thank you." he smiles. "Christa."

"Historia," she mutters blushing deeply. He arches an eyebrow in confusion at this prompting her to repeat. "Historia Reiss. That is my real name."

"W-why do you go by Christa Lenz?" Although she had anticipated the question, she wasn't quite prepared with a response.

"It's a long story," she settles for snaking a leg around his leg.

"Don't worry," he flashes her a conspiratorial smile. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thank you," she mumbles blushing slightly as she studies him with an appreciative smile. "What about you? Any deep, dark secrets you'd like to share?" She chuckles in amusement. He considers her words quietly for a split second before shaking his head in response. When he notices her watching him, he lifts his hand to stroke the side of her cheeks. She turns her head, tenderly kissing the palm of his hand before noticing his bandaged wrists. "How're your wrists?"

"Still tender," he replies a large hand grabbing hers and gently coaxing it away from his bandaged wrists with a small smile. "What do you think the others are up to now?" He asks staring up at the dark overcast sky with a tired sigh. She squeezes her eyebrows as she rests her head on his shoulder, kissing his naked chest lovingly.

"Probably, getting up for the morning drills," she replies after some thought. "Although it's hard to tell the time of the day with this abysmal weather." He chuckles with a small nod as his stomach growls loudly prompting her to give him an amused smile.

"Thank goodness tomorrow's Saturday." He yawns loudly, gently placing his jacket over her naked chest. "I've never looked forward to sleeping in so badly in my entire life."

"Speaking of which, you should probably get some sleep." She suggests as she shifts into a sitting position."I'll take the first watch." Although he sputters in protest, she presses his chest down onto the floor. "I insist. It's the least I can do after you did all the heavy lifting. Literally."

"Two hours," he assures her reluctantly lowering his eyelids. A small smile tugs at her lips as he shifts unto his stomach. She moves to slide an arm around him but freezes when she notices something yellow hovering above them from the corner of her eye.

 _Is that the sun? Can't be. It's still cloudy._

"Done?!" Annie Leonhardt asks quietly, blinking slowly at them. The color drains from Christa's face as Bertholdt Hoover stirs beside her. Green eyes widen in mortification as he meets the antisocial blonde's gaze.

"Annie!" A blinding fork of lightning rips ominously through the overcast sky above.

* * *

 **Author's** **Note: I know absolutely nothing about knots so I pulled everything knot-related in here from the movie The Prestige. If you haven't seen it yet I cannot recommend it strongly enough even though it really has almost nothing else in common with this fic.**

 **Thanks for reading. If you want more another fic featuring a crack Historia pairing check out my currently ongoing fic Throes of Perdition.**

 **The End**


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